The Hiding Place

The Hiding Place

This place has been in my family for ages. My great great-grandparents farmed this plot. I call it a plot but it is 140 acres 50% tillable. When I left home I told everyone with all the arrogance of a 21 year old.’You will never see me here again’

My parents were good people. I just could not live out in the middle of no where. Also there were so many deaths of my cousins and family members for various reasons the grief took me over and pushed me out.

I took off for the big city. Met a guy who wanted to be a cop, his goals were to be chief of Police. I liked his convictions, strength, even his dark side was sexy.

It did not take long for me to be disillusioned. Seems most of the guys felt it was okay to release stress by cheating on their significant others. Also what seemed to be the norm was to pick a fight with their significant other manipulating the argument enough that their spouse felt they deserved the beating.

My parents did not raise a fool although to leave a police officer I needed to find an outside source. A place to run to that was not on their lists of shelters. I had a sit down with my pastor told him of what was going on, not just with me but other women who were married to policemen.

It took nearly a year before my pastor came to me and said “We are set up for you to take your leave.”

They did not want me just to leave and be safe they wanted to set me up to succeed. Counseling and group therapy was part of the program. I gladly submitted to all their demands.

I met some amazing women. We have the same rules as any other support groups. Rule number 1 privacy. We never ever divulge the name of anyone else in the group.

After completing the program I was told I could go my way. My now X husband moved onto one of his girlfriends. He gladly granted me a divorce if I did not contest the settlement. I gladly submitted to that as well.

Sadly by the time my head was on straight my parents most of my family were gone. There were not many children in our family it was a small nucleus. I had 2 cousins one passed from a drug overdose another went to war and never came back.

The homestead naturally went to me. When I arrived there were numerous repairs to be done. I was surprised by the family attorney he held in a trust money for me. The stipulation was that I lived on the farm for no less then 6 months before I received a penny. From then on I could do as I pleased. I was grateful the attorney did allocate funds for repairs. New windows, siding, wiring, refinish the floors which were all hardwood except the bathrooms, and a new roof. The porch needed work but they were minor in comparison. The furnace, water heater. It took those 6 months to finish what needed to be done. I did the painting and what ever I knew how to do, the rest I hired out.

One very warm dusty summer day I was hanging out the laundry in the distance I seen a dust cloud being made by an approaching vehicle. A knot formed in my stomach. I was glad cell towers were near by. I always had mine available never knowing if my X would stand by his agreement. It would take him a while to find me. I changed my name to my mothers maiden name and the nickname they gave me as a little girl Lily Nielsen.

Once the SUV came closer I noticed there was a female in it not a male. Relief washed over me, I nearly passed out.

It pulled in the driveway came to an abrupt stop I could hear the gas sloshing as the dust settled.

Out stepped Madelyn. She was in my support group. She was married to a powerful politician. Her Suv was packed to the max. She stood disheveled but still stunning. I walked over and seen the tracks of her tears that were being made in the grit on her face. Wrapping my arms around her she started to weep and shake. As her voice quivered she said “I did not know where else to go where he would not find me.”

I whispered “I am glad you came here.”

Madelyn came into the group 6 months after me. We hit it off at the beginning. We understood the positions our husband held made it that much more difficult to pull away and run.

I set Madelyn to work as the cook and housekeeper. I did the laundry and gardening. It was a relief to have help and company. Madelyn was smart enough to pack amongst all her worldly goods two cases of great scotch,bourbon, whiskey. I can always supply wine and beer.

At the end of the day we would kick back and enjoy.

The first year went by quickly. One morning after a hard rain the mud was slippery Had the ground not been incredibly dry before the hard rains the mud would be knee deep. Problem was much of the rain washed out the road and ran into the culverts. So did many cars that were not remotely familiar with the area.

It was that day I noticed steam coming out of a vehicle which slid into the culvert 600 feet from our driveway.

I grabbed my gun and slowly walked over to see if anyone was injured or needed help. As soon as I looked through the windshield I knew this visitor could rot in hell. It was my X. He wasn’t moving. I heard Madelyn coming behind me she had a shovel and other implements with her so we could pull the vehicle out of the culvert. We have this down to a science. We had done this last fall, winter now spring.

I shook my head no. She gave me a quizzical look got off the tractor came over to me. I whispered who the occupant was. She nodded walked calmly to the drivers side. The window was half way down, with her gloved hand she reached in held his nose closed. He started coughing. It did not take long for him to stop breathing.

I took my cell phone out and called 911. He was pronounced dead on arrival.

Bookstore

When the Bell Tolls

The Bell Tolls

https://www.randomlists.com/random-words

12 Random words (Befitting, Bells, Yam, Spiders, Painful, Hydrant, Haunt, Plug, Railway, rare, Brainy, inject)

The bells were tolling signally it was noon. I was making yams and ham for dinner. Not far away there is a railway, I could hear the clatter of the wheels upon the rails. This sound was befitting a story of two lovers saying goodbye for the last time. Painful rare surge went through my heart. I still long to hear my husbands voice as he walked in the door. He would laugh and say “I am home to kill any of the demon spiders.” I would inject what I felt was a brainy come back “Never fever Spiderman is here!” He would always laugh.

I have not heard nor seen him in nearly a year. The detective stops in on occasion to speak to me letting me know they are still looking for John’s killer.

I looked out the window and dully watched a dog take a leak on a hydrant.

The coffee maker started to make a strange sound I reached for the plug to pull it out just as someone knocked on my door.

I asked who was there, no answer so I peaked through the curtain and saw a young man on my door stoop. Opening the door slightly I asked “What can I do for you?

He said “May I come in I believe there is something I can do for you.”

I stood with my hand on the door for a second before opening it to let this young man in. He went over to the dining table and sat down.

Sitting across from him he introduced himself to be simply Stan.

Stan started to tell me the tale of a woman who was dragging a large rolled up rug out of her house around 2 am. Putting the rug in the trunk of her car she slowly pulled away from the curb. I asked “What do you want.” He gave me his ridiculous demands. I looked over at my area rug and with one large whack with my iron skillet the young man was on the floor. I pushed him over to the rug rolled it up and waited till it got dark.

Bookstore

Kicking it – Short story

Kick it Short story

Recently I have been going to a counselor. I am trying to kick a habit. The counselor suggested I journal the moments that trigger my desire. I agreed to do this. Also She suggested that when the trigger occurs I change the venue. Get up and do something else or leave the room. Exchange one habit with another. I believed this to be excellent advice.

My Neighbor Millie usually stops by first thing in the morning for coffee and gossip. Promptly at 8 am. She knocks on the side door and with a soprano voice calls my name “Paula”

Monday after my husband left for work was no exception. There was a knock at the door, my name was sung out “Paula” I opened the door with my normal greeting “Good morning Millie how are you this morning?”

Millie was in full crescendo of the latest gossip about anyone I may know and those who I do not know. What was different this morning is she stopped mid sentence with a question “Oh Paula I was wondering what you were trying to give up. Coffee! That is why your seeing the counselor. I do not see your coffee pot.”

I said to Millie “Actually Millie I was just on my way out the door for a walk. Then I will be going to read to my elders this morning. Would you like to come along.” I knew she would say no. Those are two things Millie hates to do. She hates exercise and volunteering. Millie believes if you are going to do something for one of the multi million dollar industry’s like health care or housing the elderly they should pay you.

Millie went home I went for my walk. Once home I showered and went to read to some nice ladies at the assisted living facility.

After 2 weeks of me having something to do in the morning when Millie danced over she stopped the routine.

Millie thought it was coffee I gave up. I put this in my journal that it worked. No gossip song sung.

On Saturday mornings my husband plays golf with a friend he leaves at 9am for his regular tee time. His golfing buddies wife usually drives over to have coffee in hopes of me making us breakfast.

Her routine is as soon as my husband picks up her husband, she jumps into her mini van and drives over. I would not mind this so much if Claudia would volunteer to cook the breakfast. Or at least help with the clean up. In the year I have known her she has not done either.

Claudia pulled up in her mini van I was out in my garden puttering around. Claudia walks up and greets me in her usual way “Good Saturday too you Paula. Been looking forward to a girls breakfast.”

I turned to look up at her and said “Good morning Claudia sorry I have had my breakfast.”

Claudia responded as she walked towards my kitchen door “Okay no problem I will just grab some coffee.”

I said nothing to deter her entrance into my kitchen. She promptly came back out and said “Oh you gave up coffee that is why you are going to the counselor. I did not see your coffee pot.”

I simply answered “I put it away off the counter.”

Claudia chatted for a moment then got back in her car. I noticed she went around the block then pulled into Millie’s drive way.

After my husband came home from golf, he asked how it went with Claudia I answered “Same as it went with Millie, they both thought I gave up coffee.”

My husband then said “Wow that is excellent. Okay I agree with you. Tonight Evan will be coming over to mooch beer and pizza. How do you propose I do this?”

I said “Mike I want beer so what we will do is have beer in the cooler. Put the cooler in the back of the garage till Evan leaves. He will not stay if there is no beer in the fridge. Then we can pull the cooler out, have beer and order pizza.”

My husband smiled and said “You are devious. I will do just that.”

Mike took the beer out of the fridge. Went to the store for ice and produce to fill the area where the beer usually sat.”

Like clock work Evan pulled up knocked at the side door. Mike greeted him “Hey Evan what’s going on today. Have any plans?”

Evan “Well I thought I would swing by and have a beer or two with you?”

Mike “Oh sorry there is no beer in the fridge.”

Evan “Wow I heard Paula gave up coffee you gave up beer? You two must be getting old and boring.”

Mike just laughed. Evan stayed all of 15 minutes. Went around the block then pulled into Millie’s driveway.

I came outside by the garage which is in full view of Millie’s kitchen window. Mike had set up lawn chairs. I had ordered the pizza.

In my peripheral I could see face’s in Millie’s kitchen window. Mike and I cracked open our first beer toasted each other and downed the cold brew. The pizza came we had a couple of slices then took our party indoors.

Sunday morning Mike and I went to the lawn chairs still setting outside of the garage had a coffee and some donuts.

Somethings you do not have to wait till Lent nor New Years to give up gossips and freeloaders.

In Cahoots Chapter 3

In Cahoots Chapter 3

It was getting late near closing time, I told Mike he should sleep it off upstairs. I have an apartment with one bedroom. I usually rent it out, but I was between renters at the moment. Mike got up turned to everyone in the bar and thank them. They all stood and applauded. Sometimes people astound me. Mike started to cry, he turned quickly for the back stairs I could see him slightly, his shoulders were heaving from the cry he needed at the moment. Millie asked if it would be alright if she left to go grab somethings and come back to stay with Mike. I told her I thought that was a great idea.

My customers were kind enough to clear the tables, I was washing the tables off when Millie came back, I locked the door behind her, she went up the stairs. One of my regulars, Larry, stayed helped mop the floor and clean the restrooms while I washed down the bar and cleaned, dried and put the glasses away. I told Larry tomorrows drinks are on the house, he would not hear of it, said he was doing this for Mike.

Next Morning when I came to open up Mike was gone Millie had coffee ready, refrigerators full chilling the beer. I sat with a coffee and asked how it went last night. Millie said okay, he just cried himself to sleep barely said a word.

Millie “Mike was wondering if it would be okay, he would like to rent the room upstairs, says his apartment building is uncomfortable, the silence from neighbors. The glares from people on the street knowing who he is.”

Millie gave me Mikes phone number, I called it and told Mike the first 3 months is on the house, it would be good to have him.

Mike is back to work, on desk duty the media frenzy has taken another turn, seems his partner Joe was at a traffic stop when someone came around behind him while he was handing the paperwork back to the driver, when Joe turned he got hit, with the bat, his partner Gary called out stop, took a shot at the guy with the bat, hit Joe, the guy with the bat ran, Gary shot the guy, he went down, the driver started to swear saying Joe deserved what he got for letting his partner take a bat to a defenseless woman.

Joe’s funeral was 3 days later. There were mourners, honor guard, also protestors, against the police in general. Joe’s wife took it so hard she was hospitalized and did not make the funeral.

Some were wondering if the protesting was just a twirl and dance the put on media or someone with an agenda set in motion, secretly hoping for chaos, keeping the headlines sweetened with the violence.

After the funeral any police officer who wanted to blow off steam was welcome, on the house, Mike sat at the bar as he did the one night, slumped over his shot and beer. We did our little routine, Mike drank till he nearly fell off the stool, I insisted he eat, Millie sat next to him had a burger, the night was long, the grieving was heavy, there seemed to be no end in sight.

The cops that showed up started talking about the night Joe and Mike responded to a call for domestic violence, none of Mikes brothers or sisters in uniformed second guessed the two seasoned officers. No one would have guessed Geraldine’s last move. The general consensus was women do not normally carry out this sort of thing. One officer, a lieutenant, Jacobs said “It is inconceivable to me that anyone would hold these two officers responsible for what a citizen did on their own volition.”

Even after Joe’s funeral there were innuendos in the paper of how the two officers could have handled the call differently, including the subsequent calls.

The lieutenant walked over to where Mike was sitting, bought him a beer and said “Mike this is not on you, I hold the media and citizens at fault, not you nor Joe.”

Mike: “There is no consolation sir, when no one can be held accountable for Character assassination. Maligning them in the media, they are left to do this saying it is freedom of the press. As if it were a victimless crime, it was all in the days work, sir there was no way after Joe and I took the complaint that Geraldine was beating the crap out of Sloan’s truck, that she would then do what she did. The media was so busy crucifying me over the nonexistent bat incident they totally breezed past the real tragedy and then when they acknowledged what a horrific thing Geraldine did she was set on a pedestal as a bereaved wife because her husband left her. Then stating we the police department was complicit because we talked Sloan into leaving, and going to get professional help. No one is responsible for their own bad behavior except those who protect and serve.”

The Lieutenant nodded, in agreement, Mike then said something which took us all by surprised “Sir I am turning in my papers Monday morning, along with my gun and badge, there is nothing more I can nor do I want to do for this community, my thinking is I would be better off working for a security firm, better hours and better pay.”

The Lieutenant said: “I can understand how you feel Mike, how about taking a week or to leave of absence to consider the 15 years you already gave this job, do not throw that away.”

Mike: “Sir, I do not need to think about it, I had thought about it as soon as I was benched for allegedly beating Geraldine, at this point in time I would be doing the department a disservice, because I now wish I had done that, the family would still be alive.”

No one would have thought in a million years after Sloan left with his beaten up truck to go back to his brothers place, that Geraldine would get in her car, at 3 am, go over to her brother in laws and throw mulatoph cocktails through every window, taking out the entire family while they slept. Still makes no sense that all this started with a domestic violence call.

When is someone going to say the media acted stupidly.

In Cahoots Chapter 2

In Cahoots Chapter 2

Mike: “ I went on my time off back to Sloan’s neighborhood. Asked neighbors about the couple. Everyone pretty much said the same thing, Geraldine is fine when she is not drinking, Sloan is just a nice guy would do anything for anybody. The neighbor directly across the street said she and Geraldine were good friends until she made the mistake and suggested she stopped drinking everyday. That sealed the fate of the relationship right there on the spot. Geraldine got up and walked out giving her once best friend the finger.”

Millie my waitress heard this part and said “You went on your time off to ask these neighbors, there was nothing in the paper about that, why did the neighbors turn on you? The Facebook account was just horrible, guess some don’t care about the truth they just want to seem important.”

Mike looked over at Millie and said “Sadly the police are the bad guys, until they need you, then you are their servant, there to do their bidding, there are still some out there that respect what we do, respect the uniform, the media seems to enjoy using us as the bully of the streets to enrage the readers who are so busy being busy bodies, and Springer anger management seminar they watch on tv, believing this is how civilized people problem solve.

Millie nodded placed her hand on Mike’s shoulder, leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, whispered something in his ear which I could not hear, then took her tray and served her customers. Mike’s eyes were moist but he controlled the flow, this was a man on the edge of a breakdown.

Mike: “One good thing came from all this my X called and we are now at least on speaking terms. She had a sit down with Joe’s wife, seemed to help patch things over, the papers saying Joe and I went carousing after work chasing tail, which was not true. Joe is devoted to his wife Eva, his high school sweet heart, he would always say, there was no other. I believed him.”

What happened next just pissed me off royally, the door opened another person came in, camera running, I took the bat from behind the counter. Told the reporter if he wanted a quiet drink he was welcome, if he was here to stir up more lies and shit, he needed to turn around and walk out. The reporter spewed out the rhetoric about freedom of the press, and such, I told him this was my bar and I had the right to serve or throw out, I choose he leave. He continued to move towards Mike, Mike did not even look his way he stared into his empty shot glass, every customer got up and stood in the reporters way. One customer reached for the reporters camera, the reporter jerked to the right, lost his grip and the camera when careening to the floor, where a customer gave it a kick, the game started, the camera was now a hockey puck, everyone kept it batting; the reporter was swearing, the customers playing keep away. After one customer picked up the camera and walked out of the bar with it, the reporter followed, from that point I do not know what happened.

Once things settled down, I placed a fresh burger in front of Mike, leaned in and said, “Please eat something, I will not serve you another drink till you eat that burger.” I set a glass of water on the bar told Mike he could wash it down with the water. Mike took a bite but you could tell he was having trouble swallowing it, Millie had made herself a burger grabbed a water sat down next to Mike and started to eat her burger, after that Mike seemed to swallow a bit easier. I think he was finally catching on he was not in this alone any more.

After Mike ate the burger, Millie went back to servicing her customers, by this time the place was packed, still subdued, someone started to play the jukebox, some old time country which seemed to fit the mood of the place.

Another big sigh from Mike, his shoulders did not seem as slumped but he was still a man that was beaten down. At this point I was hoping he and Millie would get together, the man could use some tenderness.

Mike:” I went to the meeting one night that Sloan said he was going to, he was thrilled to see me, said he was trying to talk Geraldine into joining him. Said that he was still staying with his brother and family, figuring to give time for Geraldine to come to her senses. She did not she only became angrier at Sloan, saying they do not do anything together anymore they may as well get divorced, Sloan told her that if she wanted a divorce she would have to do the filing, he told her he still loved her, loved her enough to wait till she got better.”

Another pause, Mike asked for a beer, I would not give him another shot, he shrugged and drank his beer.

Mike:” Joe and I got a call to Sloan’s place, when we arrived he was in his truck, Geraldine was taking a baseball bat to it, standing behind it so he could not leave, Sloan just sat still, she seen us pull up came around to the drivers side of the truck and wound up ready to hit the window, I caught the bat before it made contact, that put Geraldine off balance and she landed on her ass in the grass, screaming police brutality.”

I closed my eyes for a moment remembering how I heard about Mike being brought up on charges for unnecessary force, seems Geraldine went into the house locked herself in called the department and told dispatch there were two uniformed officers on her front porch trying to break the door down. Geraldine must have been on Facebook and Twitter, because one of my customers said “Hey that Mike guy, the cop, he is trying to break into a woman’s home she claims he took a bat to her.”

There were too many witness’s which disproved her account but that did not stop the media storm, which blew the whole thing so out of proportion Mike got a few days off with pay hoping the media dust would settle.

In Cahoots

In Cahoots Chapter 1

Mike: “Growing up mom would tell me that you are judged by the company you keep. Later with the internet, Facebook, blogging, you are still judged by the company you keep. Seems there is a conspiring mentality out there that says your Facebook friends, or your blogging friends describes who you are. I still wonder what is the mind set of those who are in the social media arena? I do not use the word arena lightly, it is an arena; sometimes you are served up for sport. I learned to not get into conversations with those who start their blog with another bloggers user name. It is as if you are calling them out in the street for a virtual dual.

At least when Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr dueled over integrity, because of perceived slander, now slander is a sport. Another thing seems to be a sport, this X generation are now adults they use the baby boomers lingo such as pulling a girls hair because a boy likes her. Sorry I cannot wrap my head around people who believe that hurting someone physically is a compliment. This Jerry Springer atmosphere has taken us back to the stone age of dragging a girl by their hair to the cave when we need a generation to understand domestic violence is not okay.”

He was hunched over as he spoke, a burden so heavy he would take a deep breath in and let out the air as a sail looses its wind. His shoulders slump, he downed another shot, took a pull on his beer while I attended to other customers. I came back leaned on the bar, just enough to face him. I do not think he noticed that the bars chatter quieted to a whisper. Everyone knew who he was. How could they not. They crucified him and his partner across that social media he was speaking of. I waited for a moment or two then said. “So you and Joe took the call, some guy was hurting his wife?”

Mike: “Sloan, the guy’s name was Sloan, domestic disturbance. I knocked on the door. Geraldine came to the door. That’s Sloan’s wife, screeching out her complaint, she needed to calm down for us to discern what was going on. Joe took her aside. He is good at calming the women down. Somehow he get’s them to believe he understands their plight. Doesn’t hurt that he looks like Rock Hudson. I walk Sloan into the kitchen, Geraldine was still loud but not as high pitched. Sloan could hear what she was saying. That he shoved her, that he threatened her. All Sloan did was shake his head no. I asked him his version all he said was “Don’t mind her she get’s like that when she has too much to drink. Got home from work at 6:30 worked some overtime. She had started sometime after lunch. As soon as I walked in the door she yelled, that I better have brought home more beer, I never forget, but don’t mind her.”

Mike paused a moment contemplated the burger someone bought him. He nodded to the person who was kind enough to buy it for him. I could tell he had no intention eating it. I left it there just the same. Someone else bought him a beer and a shot, which he downed as he did the first two rounds. Again he closed his eyes slightly took in a breath let it out. I really think the man wanted to cry, but dared not because he would not be able to stop once he started.

So I asked “How did you resolve that first visit?”

Mike: “I told Sloan he should pack somethings. Go to a family members house or a friend and stay a day or two till things calm down. My partner will speak to your wife about getting some assistance. Maybe convince her to not drink for a day or two, think things through. Sloan nodded said he will call his brother tell him that he was coming. Tell him Geraldine just called the police on him. I walked Sloan to his room, he grabbed a couple of suitcases from the floor of the closet. Filled them with his belongings. I walked him to his truck. I told him my partner and I want to drive him, he said he was fine, I insisted. I promised him if he let my partner drive him I would follow in his truck. Sloan did not want to miss work. My partner came out told me that Geraldine promised to make an appointment the next morning with the doctor. We have cards for counselors, they have a good track record with those who call. I followed the squad car to Sloan’s brother’s place. His brother came out onto the porch to greet him and help with his belongs, Sloan’s sister-in-law came out with what looked like a 2 year old on her hip, the little girl was sucking her thumb with sleepy eyes. I gave Sloan a card with another counselors name on it, told him to make an appointment, he said he would first break at work.”

Just then someone walked in the door, all heads turned to see who it was. Except for Mike, he was staring at the empty shot glass. I refilled on the house. He thanked me, threw it back, took a pull on his beer, rubbed his face with both hands, let out a breath. I waited. He did not say anything else. I got others their drinks, filled the drinks our waitress Millie needed. Came back and stood again my arms folded waiting for Mike to finish what he needed to get off his chest.

Mike: “Sloan made the appointment. He came to the station after work to make sure I knew. I suppose he thought we made a special connection, not realizing I was doing my job. He seemed to be a mild manner type. I could not figure him to be the abusive ass that Geraldine was making him out to be. In this job one never knows, the quietest, smiling guy can be a brute.”

The papers and other media said that Mike and his partner Joe were at fault for not seeing the situation for what it was. The character assassination included Mike and his divorce, womanizing, and drinking, Joe’s marriage took a hit because the media is never questioned as to their accuracy they just make the accusations for readership, not caring what it does to a couple.

Bedraggled Chapter 3

 

Bedraggled Chapter 3

Knowing my kids would think I was crazy for opening the next morning like nothing happened would help in what I wanted to accomplish. Leon is a business man. He wants my restaurant as a good place to meet and greet and otherwise conduct business. A good business man knows he has competition. That competition may offer me more money for that business. I let Leon know that at the close of the restaurant. I will go home as usual. I had an appointment with Carlo who also wanted to purchase my restaurant. I told Leon that he was welcome to let himself in like I knew he had done many times before, I will meet him there in an hour after I speak to Carlo.

I opened up same as I did everyday. Glenn was my first customer, my son’s and daughter decided not to come in. They were too busy with making arrangements for Sarah. They told me I was crazy. I told them it is my way of saying goodbye to all that I lost. This restaurant is a big part of the last days I had with my Sarah. The community that I love will come out to say goodbye. Then I will sell the place that day to the highest bidder.

As I expected, after Glenn had his coffee, he gave his condolences again. All my customers even the one’s who stopped coming in because of Leon came to pay their respects, have a last meal at their favorite place, bring flowers and such.

All in all is was my most profitable day. A great memorial for my Sarah. I locked up as usual. Went to the local watering hole to meet Carlos, as expected he offered me more money then Leon.

I told Carlos straight up that the bidding had just begun. Leon was waiting at the dinner for my answer. I could tell Carlos was none to happy with hearing about Leon being interested, and said so loudly. I chose that particular bar because I know it is owned by a retired police officer and fireman. Figuring they would have my back, and I would have credible witnesses in case Carlos made threats.

Rather than go back to the restaurant, I went home. Took a hot shower, made some popcorn. My son’s and daughter were still up so we had some beers and watched some late night TV.

While we were enjoying our popcorn and beer I received a phone call there had been a shooting in my restaurant. I asked if I needed to come down for any reason. They said no just wanted to know if I knew anything having to do with a Leon Prentis. I said he was a customer. They asked if there was any reason Leon would be in the dinner after closing. I said we were suppose to meet before opening the next morning to discuss what he was offering for the restaurant. I said I had no idea how he got inside, or who would have shot him. They thanked me then hung up.

Then I received another call, this one was a bit more startling. I became agitated, and yelled into the phone to the point my son took the phone from me and started to talk to the person on the other end.

It seems someone set the place on fire. I was beside myself with grief, I could not bear any more loss. From there my son’s and daughter handled things. I was glad to have them. After Sarah’s funeral, my kids said it would be better if I sell the house as well. and maybe move to a senior housing or assisted living they were worried about my state of mind. That is how I ended up at the Brook.

That is where I met you Prissy, I could not bare to tell you the whole story till know, it was just too much for me to even think about.

To know more about Marvin you need to read Time and Neighbors

Marvin

 

Bedraggled Chapter 2

Bedraggled Chapter 2

I remember just after I bought this place I put my sign up, simply said “Marvin’s” it is more of a diner then a restaurant. One of the local bad guys, named Leon came to me during the grand opening, told me I would not last, when I was ready to sell let him know. I would know where to find him. Leon offered me half of what I paid for the place and it does not include what I spent on improvements. I am a stubborn sort, also being here seems to be good for Sarah. The kids want to put her in a home. I will not do that to my Sarah. She is safe here at Marvin’s with Phil as her companion. Watching those two you would think they were sweethearts. It is fine by me, Sarah does not always remember me. When she does it seems a false memory, may be something she made up in her head, am not sure. Phil will hold her hand, walk her around the block. Phil knows she is my wife he also knows she is ill. I have no worries about what Phil would do, he just takes her for a walk like he would a beloved pet.

The city gave us a beat cop, Glenn, he is a smart and compassionate person. He understands Phil. Glenn can see through the rags and smell, to the core of a lost soul. I look forward to Glenn stopping by for a coffee, or lunch break. He keeps me informed of who is who in this zoo we live in. Glenn gave me a stern warning about Leon. Seems Leon has done time for petty things, the authorities know he is into drugs, prostitution, extortion, but they cannot pin anything on him. When someone comes forward they either recant their story or they go missing never to be found again. My kids have a point about this city, but as I said Sarah is good here. To take her from a place that seems familiar to her would set her off in a different direction. I want to keep things as they are as long as I can.

Leon as of late has been coming in as a regular, which makes the good paying normal customers shy away. Even still some have not been back since Leon has taken up a table in the corner. As a business owner unless Leon does something I know to be illegal in my restaurant I cannot with hold service. Being an alleged bad guy does not equate to illegal. Just an asshole trying to ruin my business thus pushing me towards selling to him. I will burn the place down before I sell this place to him.

Life took a turn on a cold February morning. Phil came for his breakfast, this time rather than take out I put him in the corner booth with my Sarah. They enjoyed breakfast together. That was a bad move on my part, Leon came in looked at them in his booth, looked at me with a dead stare. Walked over and sat with them. Phil looked over at him and said something I could not hear. When Phil and Sarah were done with their breakfast they got up, and went for a walk. Glenn was sitting at the counter keeping an eye on things, I went and cleared the plates away asked Leon if he would like to order, he said his usual.

An hour later Sarah and Phil had not come back. I got Glenn’s attention he came to the door, I asked if he had seen Sarah and Phil. He said he had not, but he will ask around and get back with me.

The lunch crowd came and went and still no sign of Sarah and Glenn had not come back to tell me anything. At that point I knew I sealed my Sarah’s fate. I wanted to go kick Leon’s ass or better yet shoot him in the face point blank. It was just a fantasy he is not worth doing time in prison.

By closing time Glenn was in plain clothes off duty he came in as I was locking up. I spent the entire day in limbo, a numbness that cannot be explained. Glenn sat down in the corner booth, I sat across from him. Glenn had some Honey Jack Daniels with him, we poured some in our cups rather than coffee. Nothing was said for about half hour. I was the first to speak.

“Where did you find her?”

Glenn: “At Phil’s place, the cardboard box he called home, she was naked, as he was. Both shot in the head.”

Me: “We both know who did it.”

Glenn: “Yes, and we both know there is no way to prove it yet.”

Me: “I am not holding my breath, guess the kids will be angry about all this and blame me. I blame myself. I would like to tell you I am going to stay no one will chase me out. That would be just bravado, what I did here I did for Sarah.”

Glenn: “I know, Marvin you will be missed, greatly missed. Please do me a favor, do not retaliate, there is no shame in walking away.”

Me: “I know Leon is not worth doing time for, I will just walk away.”

As I said that: a plan started to form in my mind.

Bedraggled Chapter 1

Bedraggled chapter 1

I bought this restaurant a few years back after getting a buy out from the auto company I worked for. I was not ready for retirement. This side of town was considered middle class, since the 80’s the slow decline has marked it’s residence. That is the reason I could afford to buy it. My thinking was bring business back into the city maybe give it a kick start. Yet I hang on, I could easily retire, something pulls me here holds me in my spot as duck tape holds anything that it is plunked upon.

I can rip it off with some challenge and hairs of integrity pulled from the roots of my soul. I need to stay. This is my calling. The bedraggled have come and gone. Some due to circumstance, some by choice be it drugs, or hiding from responsibility. Yet some from the illness within their minds or stranger yet their souls. They walk among us to teach us what it means to have less, teach us humanity.

Phil, he was the one sent to me to teach me humanity. There were times I was fed up yet I stayed. I cannot liken myself to the pastor who puts on the rags, not showering for a week or more as to let his parishioners know they would shun the less given the chance. Humility is a substance hard swallowed. Easier to use sarcasm to shun, bully and rise above with humor, yet the humor is a tragic comedy within it’s core.

I cannot criticize those who turn the cheek away from such stench of humanity. At every turn I have wanted to turn away. Each time I had been brought to my knees, in the carnage .For the Grace of God, this could be me. Yet I was given favor and slipped under the limbo pole.

Here I stand with my second cup of coffee, I walk with a carryout in my hand, Phil is at the door of my restaurant waiting for a hand out like a dog at the dumpster, or a cat waiting for a mouse. Yet it seems this is what he chooses. Some say he was an inspired brilliant preacher which gave up on his congregation. Others say his brilliance could not handle the reality of reality. Either way I am here now in the ghetto of the city, tending to the bedraggled flock God considers more worthy than I am.

I have heard of actors sitting outside a restaurant begging, they may do it for a number of reasons, most believe in what they are doing. I am in hopes they do not do it for the falseness of feeling guilty for having much. That is an illusion of the reality that is out there in the bedraggled community, being that illusion is a myth due to the reality of the complex reasons we have homeless bedraggled souls.

Am I not saying Phil is sent by God, not exactly only being used. There is no perfection in what he does or says, he just is. If there was a perfection about him he would not have urinated on the patrol car of the uniformed officer who used to frequent my restaurant. Yet in hindsight he may have seen something we did not see, the officer, a year later indicted for taking bribes from the local bad guys.

Phil in the dead of winter prefers the streets to the comfort of the local shelters. He has a problem being too close to humanity himself. Phil has his own pulpit, not loud yet with his own quiet exuberance decries the worthlessness of what we call good.

Phil once tangled with a politician who wanted to change the ordinance which stated no one is allowed to lay on the grass or a bench in the park. That led to an out cry of those who picnic. Coupled with those whose children nap on a blanket while the adults play tennis, soccer or what ever activity which brings them to the park. Phil’s pulpit has no rhyme nor reason he once decried the absurdity within his reason that those who cover their face cannot be trusted, he stipulates, you can see their eyes which shows their souls, yet when the expression is hidden the soul can lie.

There is a part of me which sees wisdom in that. Phil did time in a half way house. Phil is harmless, many say, just a nuisance. Nuisance or not Phil has taught me a lot about humanity, it is more than I can say about those whom I listed in my memoirs.

I leave this journal for my children and grandchildren, they each took their turn telling me it was not safe to stay in this city which has declined to the point of autopsy. I stay. I still have love for these darkened tunnels I once called sidewalks. Also when my wife their grandmother declined in her health her and Phil seemed to speak the same language. Alzheimer’s is a disease that takes and takes. Sarah and Phil will sit in a booth, sometimes in silence sometimes garbled thoughts pass between them only they understand.

No Name Chapter 4

No Name Chapter 4

If a reporter reports more than the events which occurred then add human interest events, such as a mom or dad grieving over the loss of a child, panning in to get the emotion on the faces of the parents. Sensationalizing an event to gain more readers or viewers; conversely how would our reports look like if the reporter stood in front of the house that burnt down, report the neighborhood, the cause, what the professionals had to say about the event such as the chief, or investigator. Is there a good reason to interview the people involved, home owners, neighbors, getting all the gossip as well as what happened? That will be a reporter’s decision made at the moment making a professional decision.

Back to me, I still have not clearly mapped out what I want to be when I grow up; my parents are wondering if what I want to be is a professional student. The cost of education is going up. I am trying to absorb as much knowledge as I can. To tell the truth I am considering getting my teaching degree. I could give high school students a head start in communications before they go to college and take a class like the one Professor Spencer gives.

I went this morning to the counseling center to review with the counselor what classes I need to add. Once we were finished, I started back to my flat and nearly was run over by a Volkswagen Beetle. The driver jumped out and apologized profusely. To be honest all I could hear in my head was what I was thinking “Wow he is gorgeous.” Once I realized he had stopped talking we were still in the middle of the street staring at each other. He reached his hand out to me and introduced himself as “Hunter Lawrence” I smiled and tried not to stutter “Emma Hunter” we both laughed what were the odds? Hunter asked if I wanted to go for coffee. Of course I said yes. He is first year Professor teaching Humanity’s we talked till it got dark and I was swimming in caffeine.

I am not sure what the rules are about me dating a professor, the guy is 3 years older than I am. Hunter says as long as I am not one of his students it should not be an issue. Good thing too. We ended up at the flat. The next morning was Saturday, I usually do laundry and study, but instead I did Hunter. He did help me with homework and laundry so we could spend all of Sunday together.

It is now the end of my second year at college I did hand in my journal to Mr. Spencer it looked nothing like this, I wanted to take out some of my yammering about personal things and just stuck with the facts. My parents are delighted I decided what to do with my life. I brought Hunter home and introduced him to my parents as my husband and we are expecting our first child. I supplement my income by writing articles for the local paper, I am glad you took the time to read this story about me; Emma Lawrence.